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Friday, August 20, 2004 Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match.... These days it seems like everyone’s playing matchmaker with me, and I’m not quite sure what to think of it. Today was exemplary of the situation, with two groups of people trying to set me up with two different guys. Scene 1: We had a post-exchange meeting at Ann Arbor Brewing Company with most of the lindy exchange organizers, eleven dancers spanning twenty-five years in age; oddly enough, such large age differences aren’t as apparent in the dance community as they are in most of the world. Anyway, Ken and Carolyn, who just became official themselves, arrived late, and apparently I gave Carolyn a look because she retorted with, “So what are you doing Saturday night?” knowing perfectly well that Loren roped me into watching Shawshank Redemption with him since he and a number of others were shocked and appalled that I’d never seen the movie. Of course, that caused an uproar that went something like this: Jamie: What? You and Loren are dating?
Later, while practicing with the band, I got a voicemail on my phone (and this is verbatim): “Hey Dawn, this is Jamie—we’re just sitting here at Ann Arbor Brewing Co. wondering why you and Loren hadn’t hooked up yet. We think you should, and that you should take pictures, and send it to us.” Scene 2: I called Don (my manager) tonight to let him know that I’d managed to work out the logistical problems that we’d had with the show I’m playing at the Ypsilanti Heritage Festival today; I don’t remember how this came up, but he insinuated something about “your boy”—he and some others on the J2 Entertainment crew have been trying to set me up with Erik, who’s going to be recording my full-length and runs sound for them—to which I responded, “He’s not my boy.” A conversation ensued that went something like this: Don: Well, I won’t keep you from pizza with Erik. Oh wait, that’s tomorrow.
But neither of these guys have all four of the essential skills: singing baritone/tenor, playing the guitar, lindy, and speaking French. So obviously they’re out of the running. :-) ^ Top | 12:17 AM | | | 
Friday, August 13, 2004 The Tower There’s a mist of obligation I cannot seem to dispel, even though she criticized this flair for the melodramatic. But who is left to reassure me now? Inky letters have given way to old postcards, landscapes of concrete wastelands. And I find myself withdrawing, unconsciously so. Truth lies in music, in fiction, not the smile that dances easily enough to convince its bearer that all is well. But once in a while, reality breaks like a man cracking through icy submergence to gulp cold air. The air is sharp, and what you were convinced had faded into a muted scar no longer remains the vague sense of loss it did just days ago; it’s alive, this void. Challenge methodologies, convictions. Cynicism for the future ensues, the questions and irrationality diminishing into another memory, another fortification. The tower refuses vulnerability. These walls build themselves with a rapidity impossible to anticipate. Intangible until a lone voice questions if you’re withdrawing, even reflexively. But these reflexes grow stronger with the loosening of anchors, leaving me afraid to care. Am I hiding from myself? (Words.) ^ Top | 2:24 AM | | |
Thursday, August 05, 2004 A taste of what's to come.  After 7 1/2 hours, the insert and traycard for the CD are finally (finally!) done. I'm apparently too perfectionistic, not to mention that this project was my crash course in Photoshop. But I'm really happy with the way everything turned out, even though it took much longer than I'd have ever anticipated (seems to be the story of my life). I thought I'd give you all a sneak preview of what you can expect to hold in your hands within the next week or two. At long last!
^ Top | 4:48 PM | | |
Wednesday, August 04, 2004 Vehicular Mortality Revisited Another one: Andy Esper's truck died on Monday. It's now back in working order after a mass of repairs, but in addition the comments in the other entry, it's a bad week to own a car. That makes five cars in not as many days. ^ Top | 8:37 PM | | |
Tuesday, August 03, 2004 Vehicular Mortality If you are me or just know me, apparently it's a bad time to have a car. On Sunday, Carolyn's car died for some reason or another, as did mine. I was on the freeway, driving to my parents' to have dinner with them before my dad took off to visit his parents in Singapore, when I suddenly realized that my car's temperature gauge had shot all the way up. This after filling the coolant two days before (remember what made me late to my concert?) thanks to a similar situation. But there I was, in my 1989 Honda Civic Wagon that had engine problems just a month ago, calling up random people on my cell phone so I could kill time since I didn't have a book or anything to read. And the cars on M-14 were whizzing by, causing my insubstantial junker to recoil like a newly-hit punching bag. Yet I thought to myself, "No big deal, I'll just wait and fill it up again and it'll be fine." Right. After letting the engine cool sufficently to pour antifreeze into the appropriate hole, I was on my way--for less than a quarter of a mile. Once again, the temperature skyrocketed past the red danger zone and I had to pull over. The car is now in the hands of a mechanic who will hopefully get it back in shape tomorrow. But it's not just girls who are having car problems. Al got into a car accident on Monday (I think it was Monday and not Sunday) . He's fine but his Camry is not. Looks like a trip to the dealership is in order, and according to the police the accident was his fault--nevermind that the other driver didn't have her headlights on at 9:10pm when sunset is officially 8:50pm or that she'd been in another accident in the last month. Guess who's contesting that one? So if your car has unexpectedly decided to commit suicide, share your story in the comments section. But if it's still happy with you, and I hope it is, be thankful and stay away from me until the apparent jinx disappears. ^ Top | 11:29 AM | | |
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